


Stealth Trials

by queenofkadara



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Basically I have a crush on the Stealth Trials Keeper and I had to write this, F/M, Falling In Love, Loss of Virginity, Porn with Feelings, Rare Pairings, Shameless Smut, Smut, i'm not even sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-24 11:37:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13212924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofkadara/pseuds/queenofkadara
Summary: The Keeper of the Spurflints Hunting Grounds gives Aloy an enigmatic little smile, and her breath catches in her throat. Countless men and women have expressed an interest in her since she began her journey west, but Aloy has rebuffed them all. They were all so… blunt.The look in this Keeper's eyes is the definition of subtle... and Aloy is curious about what lies beneath his mysterious smile.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So as some of you may or may not know I'm TOTAL AND UTTER NILOY TRASH with a [300,000+ word saga about Aloy and Nil,](https://archiveofourown.org/series/808932) but alsooooo I have a crush on the Keeper at the Spurflints Hunting Grounds and this idea slammed into my brain today so I had to write it. Sorrynotsorry. 
> 
> This oneshot is an AU where Aloy and Nil are NOT together, so pretend like that whole saga doesn't exist while reading this. 
> 
> NSFW smut because obviously.

A lone figure sits by the fire, his face turned towards the shallow bowl of the lush valley below. He rises to his feet as Aloy approaches, then hushes her before she can say a word. 

Aloy narrows her eyes suspiciously. “What are you doing?”

He tilts his head slightly. The edges of his lips curl slightly and he blinks once. “I was listening to the herd,” he murmurs. “Have you come for the Stealth Trials?” 

She continues to study him warily, but his manner is benign and his expression open, much unlike the bad-tempered chuff who manned the hunting grounds at Sun Furrows. Finally she relaxes. “I’m not sure.”

He blinks again. “You must decide.” He sits again on the boulder by the fire. 

Aloy shifts her weight restlessly. She wasn’t intending to run any hunting trials; she’d only been passing through on her way north, but her curiosity is piqued. 

The Keeper smiles at her again but doesn’t speak, and Aloy feels her muscles relaxing further. His silence is refreshing, and it’s only now that she realizes how much she missed the quiet. 

Slowly she approaches him, then crouches a safe distance away. “Tell me about your trials.” 

The hint of a smile at the corners of his lips widens, and he gives a tiny approving nod. “I run the Stealth Trials. Some believe that charging in with a mighty weapon makes them a hunter, but it’s a good way to fall under the hooves of a stampede.” 

Aloy nods; she agrees with this completely. “All right. I’ve got time to run a trial.” 

The Keeper’s smile widens further, but his impression of placid calm never falters as he describes the trials to her. 

When he’s done, Aloy sniffs in disdain. “Four Watchers? I could do that in my sleep.” 

The Keeper raises his chin slightly. The expression is subtle, but somehow it conveys enough polite reproof that Aloy immediately feels wrong-footed. The Keeper speaks, but his voice is as neutrally polite as ever. “Choose a rope, and I will begin timing.” 

Aloy nods silently, then slides swiftly down the rope. Now she wants more than ever to get a Blazing Sun on this trial. Somehow she believes he’ll forgive her blunt comment if she succeeds.

A minute later, she’s standing in front of the Keeper again, and his close-lipped smile is wide, his eyes brimming with approval. “A Blazing Sun,” he says quietly, handing her the small token. 

Aloy smiles back and he nods once, then sits again on his boulder and says no more. 

Aloy stands for a moment longer, feeling mildly awkward; she should move on, continue north before darkness sets in, but something keeps her in place. 

The Keeper looks up at her again and gallantly gestures towards the fire, and Aloy finally relaxes fully as she sits cross-legged by the fire. She takes some dried boar meat from her pouch and politely offers some to the Keeper, who raises a hand in polite refusal. 

Aloy eats in silence, her attention on the quiet man on the boulder. His eyes are closed, so Aloy eyes him surreptitiously as she chews. The firelight casts shadows across his body, shining off the gilded thread of his vest and the sculpted planes of his chest. She wonders why all Carja hunters seem to run around half-naked. She’d thought that bandit hunter Nil was an eccentric, and she’d been shocked to discover that almost every Carja hunter was similarly scantily clad.

This Keeper is no different. His clothing is very similar to Nil’s, in fact. Aloy’s sidelong gaze traces idly over the armour wrapping around his biceps, the veins running down his arms into his vambraces, the lines of his abs.

Then suddenly she realizes his eyes are open, and he’s watching her. Aloy flushes, grateful that the red glow of the fire will disguise her embarrassment, and hastily she begins crafting arrows. 

The Keeper says nothing, and eventually Aloy’s heart rate normalizes again. She’s surprised when he finally speaks. “Your technique is excellent.”

She glances up at him curiously, but his eyes are closed again. She isn’t sure whether he means her arrowcraft or her stealth kills in the valley, but she feels strangely shy to ask. So she simply murmurs a quiet thanks. 

He nods slightly, and they continue to sit in silence, Aloy crafting arrows while the Keeper simply… listens. 

“What…” The word leaves her lips before she can stop it, and Aloy bites her lower lip as the Keeper opens his eyes. He blinks once, a mildly curious expression, so Aloy continues. “What are you listening for, exactly?” 

“Everything and nothing,” the Keeper replies. 

Aloy frowns in confusion. The Keeper smiles slightly, then says, “Close your eyes.”

Aloy eyes him suspiciously, but the Keeper simply looks at her, and finally she follows his suggestion. 

The Keeper speaks again. “There are layers to the silence. The wind in grass has a certain hush. The curious twitch of a Watcher’s neck, even the Stalker’s silent path: they each have their own brand of quiet.” 

His voice is gentle and soothing, like the easy flow of a river running through the jungle, and Aloy swallows hard. His voice is lifting something beneath her skin, a buzzing curiosity that is wholly different from the driving need for answers that usually pushes her to move on. 

For the first time in months, Aloy feels like staying still.

*****************

Three days later, Aloy returns to the Spurflints Hunting Grounds. The Keeper looks up as she approaches. A tiny smile lifts the corner of his lips, and he nods politely. “You’ve returned,” he says. 

Aloy gives him a rare smile as he stands. “Yes,” she replies, lowering her voice to match his quiet tone. “I’m here for the Stalker trial.” 

The Keeper gestures politely towards the ropes, and without a word, Aloy slides away. She returns to the fire faster than even she thought possible, and can’t help but grin openly as she pads softly over to his side. 

The corners of his conker-brown eyes crinkle in a smile, and he hands over her Blazing Sun token without a word. He nods his head to the fire, and Aloy sits beside him readily. 

“You have changed your armour,” he remarks. 

Aloy looks up at him, surprised that he’s commenting on her clothing, but he’s correct: she’s dressed in Carja blazon armour instead of the outfit Teb stitched for her. “Um, yes. I thought it might help me… blend in.” She pulls her knees up to her chest slightly self-consciously; she’s still unaccustomed to her entire midriff showing.

He tilts his head to the side thoughtfully, his eyes on the fire. “You seek to practice stealth outside of these trials. I admire your commitment to the hunt.” 

Aloy smiles again, then relaxes into a cross-legged position. She can’t be sure, since his lips are still curved in that tiny enigmatic half-smile, but she thinks he might be making a joke. 

She removes a wax-cloth of dried figs from one of her pouches, then offers the Keeper a fig. This time, he accepts: he nods a slight thanks, then takes a fig from her hand.

His fingers graze her palm lightly as he picks up the fruit, and Aloy’s eyes dart to his face, but his gaze is on the fire. He lifts the fig to his mouth, and Aloy furtively watches as he chews the fruit slowly, then wets his full lips. 

That slow buzz of heat is simmering under her skin again. A gentle pulse has started to thrum between her legs, and Aloy shifts awkwardly, then moves to a kneeling position. 

Silently she offers him another fig. He takes it, his fingertips brushing her palm again, and a tiny thrill zips from her throat into her chest, but he remains silent, his eyes on the fire as he eats. 

Very quietly, Aloy takes a slow, deep breath to quell her rising libido. Countless men and women have expressed an interest in her since she began her journey west, but Aloy has rebuffed them all. They were all so… blunt. 

It’s not that Aloy doesn’t want what they’re offering. In fact, meeting so many different people has roused an interest that Aloy only ever explored half-heartedly on those nights when Rost left her home alone on his hunting trips outside the Embrace. Now, during her solitary nights of travel, she imagines lips meeting hers, hands on her skin showing her the shining promise that she’s barely had a chance to furtively explore on her own. And yet, each person who’s offered her a hint of that promise - Erend, Avad, Nil, Vala… Their interest was too heavy, too cloying. Aloy ran from it even as her body begged her to stay. 

This Keeper is not the first person she’s been attracted to, but he’s the first who hasn’t clearly expressed an interest in return, and somehow this makes Aloy feel comfortable… and slightly worried that perhaps he isn’t interested at all. 

His soft, melodious voice breaks into her roiling thoughts. “Your palms are callused for one so young.”

Aloy glances up at him. His gaze is on her hands, which are resting lightly in her lap. 

She tilts her head curiously. Every Nora’s palms are hard with knotted skin from training with arrows and spears. “Yours aren’t?” she asks. 

The Keeper shakes his head, then silently peels back the fingerless silk gloves that cover his palms and shows her his hands. Without thinking, Aloy reaches up and runs her fingers over the center of his palm. 

His hands are astonishingly soft and smooth. And warm. An image of his palms on her bare midriff, smooth but strong, forces itself into her mind. Suddenly her heart is fluttering in her throat, and Aloy swallows hard, feeling irrationally fearful that his carefully attuned sense of hearing might detect her heightened pulse. 

With a jolt of horrified embarrassment, she realizes her fingers are still resting on his palm. But before she can jerk her hand away, his fingers begin to close over hers, slowly and gently, like a metal flower’s petals moving in reverse. 

He’s giving her time to move away, ample time to remove her fingers from his hand, but she’s paralyzed. Heated anticipation is rising in her chest, filling her like a lantern. The Keeper slowly turns her hand over so her knuckles are cradled in his palm. 

Aloy stares at him, breathless with desire and inexplicable fear, but his eyes are on her hand, and his expression is as calm and placid as always. He gazes at her palm, and Aloy bites her lower lip, both wanting and dreading that he’ll do… something. Anything. She’s not sure what she wants (or fears?), but his stillness is stoking that buzzing heat between her legs, a gasping desire in her throat, and she clenches her teeth to hold it in check.

Finally he lifts his gaze to her face, an Aloy can’t breathe. His expression is perfectly benign, but his cocoa-brown eyes are bright and hot, and the tilted angle of his head is a question. 

Aloy wants him. She’s terrified of him. She pulls her hand from his gentle grip. “I have to go,” she says. 

She runs away.

************************

A week later, Aloy returns. 

The Keeper is there, sitting on his boulder, his eyes closed as he listens to the hushed nighttime sounds of the valley. Aloy is silent as she approaches him. 

His eyes snap open when she’s a mere two paces away. His characteristic mysterious half-smile pulls up at the corner of his lips. Aloy smiles at him, and he nods his head in a silent acknowledgement. 

“The Sleight of Crate trial,” she says simply. He nods once, and Aloy runs towards the nearest rope. 

She almost doesn’t make it back in time. One Shellwalker caught sight of her, its headlights flaring orange, and Aloy had to wait for it to lose interest, losing precious seconds that almost cost her her Blazing Sun. 

The Keeper is on his feet as she approaches. She gives him a small rueful smile, but he doesn’t comment on her near-miss. “This is well-earned,” he tells her, and presses the Blazing Sun token into her palm. 

He shifts his weight to one hip and gazes at her with warm approval. “You’re talented in the arts of stealth and silence. You might be able to teach _me_ something. That’s a difficult thing for a hunter to admit.” 

Aloy bows her head briefly in thanks. Then she lifts her chin and gazes boldly at him. “Maybe there’s something _you_ might be able to teach me in return.” 

The Keeper tilts his head, and Aloy holds her breath as she waits for his reply. All of the feats Aloy has done so far - taking down Corruptors, demolishing bandit camps, pushing a pallet of blaze out a window… Of all of these things, speaking this innuendo-laced sentence is the bravest thing she’s ever done. 

She’s been building her courage for days, fortifying the bricks of her bravery with her clumsy callused fingers between her legs at night. The Keeper’s handsome face drifted behind her closed eyelids, a fantasy of his gentle voice in her ear spurring her forth, but it hasn’t been enough.

She wants more. She hopes he’s willing to give it.

A slow smile lights his face, and he nods once. 

Aloy lets out a relieved breath, then belatedly realizes she doesn’t know what to do next. She’d only thought as far ahead as asking. She hadn’t considered what comes _after_.

Awkwardly she bites her lower lip, but the Keeper steps closer to her. His eyes slide over her bare midriff, and he gestures politely towards her body. “May I?”

Aloy nods eagerly, and the Keeper comes closer still. He lifts one hand and curves his fingers gently around her waist. 

Her breath catches in her chest. His hand is hot and smooth, and his thumb stroking her skin is better than she imagined. She arches unconsciously towards him. 

He lifts his other hand and smoothes his fingers carefully from the base of her sternum down to her navel, and Aloy gasps involuntarily as his fingers slide gently under the edge of her waistband. 

He steps even closer, and his breath fans across her cheek as he speaks, sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine. “You are unhusked?” he asks. 

Aloy frowns in slight confusion. “I don’t know what that means,” she admits. “But I’ve never, uh…” She shrugs helplessly, feeling awkward and inept. 

But the Keeper doesn’t seem to mind. His eyebrows lift slightly with surprise, but he simply nods his head gravely. “It is an honour, then,” he says softly. “But we must be silent.” 

Aloy raises one eyebrow, her nerves chased away by amusement. “Seriously?” 

The Keeper smiles, but his words are serious. “Yes. We mustn’t attract the notice of the machines.”

Aloy can’t help it. She snorts a tiny laugh.

The Keeper lifts his hand from her belly and cups her jaw, then brushes his thumb across her lips. “Shhhh,” he whispers. 

Aloy swallows hard, all amusement swept away by the sudden intensity of his gaze on her face. Her lips part involuntarily at the touch of his thumb. 

The Keeper slides his hand around to stroke the back of her neck, and Aloy inhales sharply, tilting her head to the side to allow him easier access. His fingers stroke the length of the tendon in her neck, painting heat across her throat. His other hand rises and unbuckles her Carja vest with ease. 

Aloy swiftly shucks off her vest. She’s eager now; that throbbing heat at the apex of her thighs is swift becoming unbearable, and she’s ready to see what his bronzed hands can do. 

He curves his hands around her waist and slides them up along her ribs, then slips his thumbs beneath the edge of her cropped silk blouse to stroke the soft undersides of her breasts. Aloy gasps and arches towards him, her hands rising of their own volition to grip his vest. 

His thumbs are hypnotic, sliding back and forth along her tender flesh in a gentle rhythm. Then he slides his thumbs over her nipples. 

Aloy tilts her head back, and an involuntary little moan slips out of her throat. The heat at her groin pulses insistently, a dissatisfied beat of near-pleasure that only burns hotter as his thumbs stroke the hardened peaks of her nipples.

Suddenly the Keeper cups the back of her head with one hand, and his full lips graze her cheekbone. “Shhhh,” he whispers again. Then he kisses her. 

Aloy clenches her fists in his vest and yields to the heat of his kiss. His lips are as soft as his palms, and Aloy nips them hungrily, relishing their plumpness. He hums very quietly with satisfaction, then licks her lower lip gently while rolling her nipple between his fingers. 

A tiny sob of desperate desire escapes her throat, but the Keeper silences it with his mouth. His hands move to her waistband, and with expert fingers he unbuckles her pouch belt and her tassets, then unfastens the laces of her leggings. 

She’s panting now, her anticipation surging hungrily at the feel of his hot fingers on her abdomen. Her pouch belt and tassets pool at her feet, and she reluctantly steps away from him to pull off her sandals. 

The Keeper steps close and gently rolls her leggings down, then kneels at her feet. Aloy gasps again in a fever-pitch of excitement. This is more than she even imagined. 

The Keeper’s breath is hot against her belly as he lifts his face to look up at her. “Remember, you must be silent,” he warns her. Then he slides his hands up to grip her hips and runs his tongue along the inside of her thigh, right near the centre of her heat. 

Aloy throws her head back in desperate desire, but she clamps her lips shut. Then an unstoppable mewl of pleasure escapes her lips as the Keeper laps his tongue along her slick cleft. 

The Keeper pulls back and gives her a chiding look. “Huntress, you must be silent. You’re a master of stealth. You are capable of this.” 

Aloy clenches her fist in her hair with frustration, but nods tightly. This seems to satisfy the Keeper; he gently parts the red curls over her sex with his fingers, then swirls his tongue over the bud of her pleasure. 

Aloy presses the back of her fist hard against her mouth. She genuinely doesn’t know if she can stay silent through this; his tongue between her thighs is the most exquisite sensation she’s ever felt, smooth and sweet as honey and Carja silk, and the pressure that’s building in her abdomen is heavenly and torturous at the same time. 

The Keeper continues to lavish her clit with sweet circular pressure, then slides two fingers between her legs to stroke lightly at her labia. Aloy jerks her hips towards his face and bites the skin of her hand _hard_ ; the gentle stroke of his fingers along her sensitive flesh is tantalizing, and it pushes the swelling pressure in her core even higher. 

He changes the rhythm of his tongue over her taut nub, gifting her with long, smooth strokes, and suddenly the pressure in her abdomen explodes, fracturing like a Charger’s lens and sending shards of searing pleasure along the length of her legs and up through her throat. A cry of rapture tears itself from her throat, muffled by her fist against her mouth. Her calves are spasming, trembling with the strength of her climax, and Aloy isn’t sure she can stay standing for much longer. 

The Keeper suddenly rises to his feet and slides his arms around her, and Aloy gratefully gives her weight to him, her fists gripping his shoulders as she gasps in completion against his chest. 

He presses his mouth to her ear. “Pretty huntress. Do you want more, or has this trial been enough for you?”

She can feel the hardness of his manhood through his silk pants, pressing against her naked groin. She shakes her head roughly. “I want more,” she whispers, and she reaches eagerly for the laces of his pants. 

The Keeper gasps softly as she smoothes her fingers over the hard bulge between his legs. As soon as Aloy has unlaced his pants, he lifts her up and carries her over to his bedroll. He lays her down solicitously, then kneels between her legs and pushes his pants down to his knees. 

His erection proudly springs free, and Aloy props herself up on her elbows to eye his manhood with unabashed curiosity. She’s never seen a naked man before, and a trickle of apprehension runs down her spine as she examines his girth. She wasn’t sure what she’d imagined, but he’s significantly larger - and wider - than whatever her mind had conjured up. She bites her lip nervously. 

The Keeper reaches over and tilts her chin up with a gentle hand. “We’ll take this slow,” he assures her quietly. “This hunt is like any other. Stealth will win the day.” He gives her a tiny smile.

Aloy smirks. Again, she’s uncertain whether he’s joking or not, but the analogy to hunting - her realm of definite expertise - immediately soothes her anxiety about this unfamiliar activity. 

The Keeper smoothes his fingers between her legs, spreading the slick moisture of her arousal, and Aloy gasps with renewed bliss. Then he leans forward, stretching his body over hers and bracing his weight on his left elbow while he strokes her wetness with his right hand. “Slowly now,” he whispers against her lips. 

Aloy nods eagerly, and the Keeper carefully slips one finger inside of her.

Aloy jerks at the sensation of fullness, but it’s a good fullness, a new pressure that she’s never tried on her own. She presses her lips to the corner of the Keeper’s mouth. “More,” she breathes. 

He obeys, sliding his finger slowly out of her and returning with two fingers this time, and Aloy gasps against his cheek; the pressure is increasing, but it’s _good_ , and-

Suddenly the Keeper does _something_ with his fingers, a circular motion of some kind, and Aloy can’t stop herself from crying out with pleasure. The Keeper covers her mouth with a kiss, stroking his tongue against hers as he strokes his fingers inside of her, and Aloy grips his shoulders and instinctively thrusts towards his hand. 

His fingers inside of her are stirring up that delicious pressure in her abdomen, and her thrusting is only bringing it faster. Suddenly the Keeper breaks from her lips and pants against her cheek. “Tell me when you are ready.” 

“I’m ready,” Aloy gasps immediately, and the Keeper reaches down to grasp his cock, then guides it towards her entrance. 

Aloy braces her feet on the bedroll and lifts her hips in her eagerness, and the Keeper slowly sheathes himself inside of her inch by inch. 

Aloy pants for breath, her knees spread wide to take him deep. The sensation of fullness is almost overwhelming, and she shoves her fist against her mouth again to muffle the cry that wants to tear from her throat. Then the Keeper’s lips are at her ear again. “Remember, pretty huntress: be silent.” 

_This_ time, Aloy can hear the warm undertone of laughter in his voice, and she suddenly laughs into the back of her hand, then cries out against her own skin as he thrusts the final inch of his cock inside of her. The cradle of her hips is flush to his now, his hard bare chest skimming over hers, and Aloy is ready for more. 

She wiggles her hips slightly in supplication, and the Keeper complies readily, withdrawing from her sleek heat and then thrusting in again in a slow, smooth stroke. Aloy gasps, then presses her chest higher, wanting him to touch her breasts again. 

His right hand smoothes over her ribs, pushing her silk blouse up to reveal her bare breast. Then he shifts his position slightly and takes her nipple in his mouth.

Aloy stretches languorously beneath his body, a tiny mewl of satisfaction purring from her lips. His teeth are gentle and teasing against her nipple, his cock hard and smooth inside of her, and the pressure in her core is becoming more insistent, demanding _more_ from the man looming over her. 

She presses her mouth to the Keeper’s cheek. “Faster,” she breathes. 

“As you wish,” he purrs, and obeys her command. Soon Aloy is panting hard, her nails digging into his shoulders as he thrusts into her with a fast, hard rhythm. His breathing is sharp against her neck, his hand hot against her breast, and this is _everything,_ it’s everything she had hoped for when she asked this Keeper to teach her what he knew… 

His breaths are ragged against her ear, and suddenly he pulls out of her, spurting his completion over her bare belly. He shudders, his face pressed against her neck, and Aloy strokes his cheek gently until he stills.

Slowly he lifts his face from her neck, then kisses her lips gently. “This trial isn’t over yet,” he tells her quietly, and Aloy looks at him with surprise until he slips his hand back down to her wetness and slides his fingers inside of her again. 

_There._ His fingers are like precision arrows, striking some particular spot inside of her, and hastily Aloy presses her fist against her mouth again as the stroking motion of his fingers shoves her inexorably towards her peak. Almost before she knows what’s happening, she’s trembling, her thighs spasming and her back arching as her orgasm pours over her. 

As the waves of pleasure recede, Aloy relaxes and lets her tender fist fall away from her mouth. The Keeper is still stretched over her, his lips grazing her neck in a line of tender kisses. 

Aloy smiles and finally opens her eyes. “Did I pass this trial?” she whispers cheekily. 

The Keeper smiles back at her, and for the first time, his smile is wide and uninhibited. “I would give you a Blazing Sun if I could,” he replies softly. “But you _could_ stand to work on your silence.” Aloy huffs out a quiet laugh, and the Keeper’s eyes twinkle in the firelight. 

Then he tilts his head to the side quizzically. “Next time, perhaps?”

 _Next time._ Aloy hadn’t thought about what would happen after this time. She still has so much to do, and her next goal is Maker’s End, in the far north… 

Finally she shrugs and smiles at him. “I could find the time to come back for another trial.” 

The Keeper graces her again with his mysterious little smile, and Aloy cups the back of his neck as he kisses her. She’s a wanderer at heart, but a return visit to these hunting grounds would be well-deserved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Aaaaand now back to Murder Husband Nil. IT WAS A ONE-TIME THING I SWEAR >.>


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I honestly didn't expect many people to read this fic since the Stealth Trials Keeper is such a minor NPC that HE DOESN'T EVEN HAVE A NAME, but you guys are total enablers and I love you all. So now it's a three-part fic. 
> 
> NSFW smut. ;)

Aloy hands over a pair of Strider hearts to the merchant, then nods politely as she tucks his payment into her shards pouch. She turns and shades her eyes against the sun, then slips into the shade as she makes her way towards the Oseram who sells clothing in the central square. 

Meridian’s market is bursting with activity at midday, and Aloy braces herself against the noise as she slips through the crowds. She’s uncomfortable with the attention she garners as ‘the Nora huntress who saved the Sun-King’, but there was no avoiding this visit; Avad deserves to know about the half-resurrected Deathbringer at Maker’s End, and Aloy’s pouches are heavy with trophies for the Lodge. She hopes to finish her errands before sunset and to be outside of the city limits before nightfall.

She nears the Oseram merchant and nods briefly to him, then inspects his Banuk wares with a keen eye. 

“Hello, huntress.” 

Aloy jolts in startlement, even as a trickle of undeniable excitement pools low in her belly. She knows only one person with the skill to sneak up on her. 

She turns to gaze into the Keeper’s chestnut-brown eyes, and he bows his head to her in polite greeting. 

“What are _you_ doing here?” she asks. She’s discombobulated by his presence, and surprise makes her blunt. 

The Keeper’s face is utterly calm and composed, a stark contrast with the jangling feeling in Aloy’s chest. He lifts his hand to idly scratch the back of his neck, and Aloy is visited by a sudden memory of his fingers between her legs. It’s been a month since they moved together at his hunting grounds, but the image is still sharp and vivid when she plays it in her mind at night. 

Aloy’s ears feel hot. She swallows her embarrassment as he replies. “I must return to the Lodge on occasion to report the numbers of hunters at my trials,” he explains. 

His voice is pitched low as though he’s still at the Spurflints. Aloy lowers her own voice and leans closer to him. “The noise here must be jarring for you,” she murmurs. 

The corner of his lips lift in that tiny half-smile, and he nods once. “I prefer the music of the wild over the cacophony of squawking birds. But the call of duty only gets louder if it’s ignored.” 

She nods in acknowledgement. She can’t imagine how people sleep in this city with all the noise. 

True to form, the Keeper says nothing more, and Aloy shifts slightly; she knows he doesn’t require idle conversation, but his gaze is on the Banuk goods, polite but uninterested in what he sees, and Aloy gets the sense that he’s waiting for something.

“So how did you spot me in the crowd?” she finally says. Then she wants to smack herself for her inane comment. Meridian might be huge, but she’s the only redhead in this city. Sometimes Aloy wonders with melancholy if she’s the only redhead in the world. 

To her vast surprise, the Keeper doesn’t mention her hair. “You move silently through this crowd,” he says instead. “It is ironic, perhaps, but your stealth draws attention, like a solitary shadow in the height of the noon sun.” 

Aloy can feel her face getting hot. This is the highest of praise coming from this man. Her tongue is tied, and all she can offer him is a half-smile.

He tilts his head slightly. “What brings you to Meridian?”

She doesn’t want to mention that she needs to see Avad; it would feel like boasting even if it’s the truth, and would require explaining parts of her history that feel too personal to share. She tells him about her other errand instead. “I have trophies to present to the Sunhawk.” 

His eyebrows lift enquiringly, so Aloy elaborates. “Talanah Khane Padish is considering sponsoring me. She told me to hunt three Sawtooths, two Ravagers and a Stalker, so I did.” 

“Talanah, you say?” He nods his head in approval. “The two of you will make a formidable pair.” 

His gaze is warm and serious, and Aloy flushes, much to her annoyance. She’s grateful when he speaks again, saving her from finding a response. “Would you care to accompany me to the Lodge?” 

She feels a little jolt, like a fish leaping in her chest. She shrugs casually. “All right,” she says. 

He offers a subtle half-smile and a gallant hand gesture, and then they’re strolling through the market towards the Hunter’s Lodge. 

The Keeper is perfectly silent, an oasis of peace among the raucous laughter and shouting that surrounds them. Aloy glances surreptitiously at his profile. His face is as bland as ever, and he maintains a polite distance between them as they walk. 

He’s so placid, so detached, that Aloy starts to wonder whether he’d prefer to pretend that their liaison never took place. She isn’t sure whether she’s more relieved or disappointed by his reserve; nevertheless, she’s comforted by his silent company. Aloy is the first to admit that she makes many inquiries in her quest for answers, but she finds it exhausting to be the constant target of personal questions in every place she goes. In contrast, this Keeper doesn’t ask her any questions, and she’s glad for it.

They step into the Hunter’s Lodge and nod a silent greeting to Ligan. Aloy glances up at the second level, her lip curling already as she spots Ahsis’s smug figure on the upper floor. 

The Keeper’s warm, smooth palm on her back surprises her. “Go ahead,” he murmurs. “I will speak to him after.” 

Heat is spreading across her skin, fostering a shiver of _want_ in her belly. She nods silently and steps away from the Keeper’s hand, then runs up the stairs. 

***************

A short time later, Aloy returns to the main floor, unable to wipe the angry scowl from her face. The blood is pounding in her ears, drowning out the pleasant music of the Carja trio in the corner. 

She stands awkwardly at the base of the stairs for a moment, unable to think beyond Ahsis’s dismissive bigotry. Then her gaze finds the Keeper. 

He’s in the quietest, most secluded corner of the Lodge, far from the music and the chattering patrons at the bar. He meets her eye and tilts his head slightly for her to approach. 

Aloy strides over to him and bad-temperedly plops down on the divan. He surveys her in silence, but Aloy can’t look at him; she doesn’t want to look at anyone. She folds her arms defensively across her bare midriff and breathes. 

Some time later, when Aloy no longer feels quite so enraged, the Keeper’s gentle voice breaks into her thoughts. “So this is how you became such a strong hunter, although you are so young.” 

Aloy glances at him quizzically, and he explains, “Many a hunter will fall when their anger drives them headfirst into a herd. But anger doesn’t protect from metal claws or horns. Quiet determination, on the other hand…” He nods with approval, and his gaze is strangely understanding, making Aloy feel calmer but also inexplicably sad. 

“I hate him,” she blurts. Then she bites the inside of her cheek. She’s seized by the feeling that she’s said too much, but it’s too late now to reel the words back in; they hang between her and the Keeper like cloying incense. 

The Keeper nods slowly. “You are not alone in this,” he murmurs, and Aloy finally looks him in the eye. They stare at each other in silence. 

The Keeper’s hands are resting peacefully on his knees. Then he slowly he turns over one hand. 

Aloy’s eyes dart between his upturned palm and his face. His expression is calm and neutral, but his chocolate gaze is warm, and his open hand is an invitation. 

Aloy unclenches her tense fists, then slowly, tentatively, she places her hand in his. Just like on their first night together, he turns her hand over to cradle it in his palm, then runs the softness of his thumb over her calluses.

The breath catches in her throat as she watches the hypnotic stroking of the Keeper’s thumb over her skin. His intention is abundantly clear in the insistent slide of his thumb, and Aloy is violently relieved that this is another thing she’s not alone in. 

She lifts her gaze to the Keeper’s face, and a jolt of excitement brings her nipples to attention. His enigmatic smile is cool, but his eyes are burning, and she can’t look away from the blazefire of his gaze. 

“Let’s, um… should we…?” Aloy awkwardly stammers to a halt, but the widening of his close-lipped smile is all the answer she needs. 

“Would you care to follow me?” he murmurs. His gentle voice is bland, and one would almost think he’s asking her about the weather, if not for the mischievous glimmer in his eyes.

Aloy’s nerves are soothed by the subtle playfulness in his face. “Okay,” she agrees. “Where…?” 

But the Keeper shakes his head. The corner of his lips are lifted in a smirk, and Aloy raises one suspicious eyebrow. “You… want me to track you?” she asks. 

His smirk broadens slightly, and Aloy huffs in amused disbelief. “Fine,” she concedes. “Don’t worry, I’ll be silent.” 

The Keeper grins suddenly, revealing a dimple on the left side of his chin, and Aloy flushes yet again in the face of his mirth and his beauty. Without another word, he rises gracefully from the divan and drifts away in a completely casual manner. 

Aloy pretends to polish her bow as she surreptitiously watches him wander around the periphery of the room. He’s greeted by a few people and he speaks briefly to them, but Aloy notices that his deferential posture deflects attention, like oil rolling from a machine’s sleek back. Finally he disappears through a curtained doorway. 

A few minutes later, during which Aloy forces herself not to fidget with impatience, she rises and slowly skirts the edges of the room until she reaches the curtained doorway. She slips through the absurdly opulent red curtain unnoticed - no mean feat for the only flame-haired Nora in the building. 

She faces a dim hall inset with multiple doors, lit with elaborate oil lamps bracketed to the walls and furnished only with a long, elaborately carved table along one wall. Aloy instinctively slips into the shadows of the nearest corner to let her eyes adjust. 

The Keeper is nowhere to be seen. 

Aloy’s eyes dart from doorway to doorway. She can’t hear any human sounds, but that means nothing when her quarry is known for his stealth. 

Finally Aloy steps silently from the safety of her corner and begins to make her way down the hall. She can’t decide if the jumpy feeling in her chest is anxiety or excitement, or a potent combination of both; and yet, despite her nerves, she doesn’t jump this time when a voice whispers unexpectedly in her ear. 

“Pretty huntress.” 

A shiver of icy heat races from her scalp down to her groin as the Keeper’s arm encircles her waist from behind. The warmth of his palm on her bare belly is overshadowed only by the warmth of his chest against her back. With his other hand he reaches up and gently cups her jaw, his fingers framing her chin, then slides his hand down along the length of her throat.

The Keeper’s strong hands are smooth and careful, his voice a susurrus like a summer breeze through the trees, but there’s nothing subtle about the blazing lust that ruthlessly rips through Aloy’s body.

His lips braise her earlobe. He turns her head to the side with the gentle hand at her throat and trails his mouth along her neck. 

Aloy gasps for breath. The Keeper’s touch is sinuous and smooth, but Aloy’s desire is hard and blunt, and she thinks this might be the only time when blunt force wins over stealth. She grabs his hand on her belly and insistently pushes his fingers lower, below her navel, towards her waistband. 

Suddenly he presses her back against the wall. His fingers are twined in the hair at the base of her neck, his lips are devouring hers, and he swallows her gasp of anticipation as he slips his right hand delicately into her Carja leggings. 

Aloy cries out against the Keeper’s tongue as he dips one finger into the moisture of her cleft. The movement of his hand is still expertly smooth, but there’s an urgency now, a flare of impatience as he nips her tongue with his teeth and thrusts his finger smoothly into her heat. 

Aloy jerks at the intimacy of his touch, her fingers scrabbling for purchase against his armoured biceps. He tears his lips from hers as he slides his finger up to circle her clit. 

“We must be silent,” he whispers against her cheek, and Aloy _snarls_. She knows why they need to be quiet, she _knows_ , but that doesn’t make it easier to keep the vibrating need clenched behind her teeth. 

The Keeper chuckles softly at her ire, a sound as soft as silk, then kisses her hard. Her frustration melts away under the delicious stroke of his tongue and the insistent stroke of his fingers between her legs. He smoothes his fingers lightly over her firm bud, and Aloy grabs his shoulders and thrusts her hips against his hand, desperate for more friction, desperate to loose the storm that’s building in her core. 

He complies with her body’s wordless request and rubs her clit with a firm circular pressure. His fingers are swirling now, causing her pleasure to spiral ever higher, and Aloy barely has time to gasp against his lips before her climax explodes. The pleasure is torrential, forcing her head back against the wall and white lights to burst behind her eyelids, and vaguely she feels his left hand loosen in her hair so he can support her weight. 

Aloy finally tears her mouth from the Keeper’s tempting lips and gasps in a breath. “I want...” she starts, but realizes that she doesn’t need words for this. He prefers action over words, after all.

Boldly she reaches between their bodies and grasps the bulge of his cock through his pants, and to her surprise and amusement, _he_ gasps audibly. 

Aloy lifts her chin. “Shhhh,” she whispers in his ear. 

The Keeper cups her jaw in one hand, gazing into her eyes as he breathes hard. Then he grins, setting butterflies loose in her chest. Abruptly he lifts her up by the waist and sets her on the long table against the wall. 

Their hands bump together clumsily as they reach for each other’s laces at the same time, and Aloy bites back a nervous laugh. The Keeper smiles briefly at her, but his eagerness is obvious now as he tugs roughly at his own laces, his hard smooth chest rising and falling with lustful breaths, and Aloy is both excited and comforted to see that she’s not the only one who seems to be losing control. She fumbles at the laces of her leggings with trembling fingers, struggling to loosen them beneath the bulk of her pouch belt.

The Keeper frees himself from his pants, and Aloy’s attention snags on the proud rise of his cock. She swallows hard and tries more desperately to untie her stubborn laces, but she realizes with a slow dawning of embarrassment that they’re knotted. 

Aloy blushes awkwardly and ducks her head, but the Keeper steps between her legs and tilts her chin up with two fingers. “May I?” he whispers. 

She nods eagerly, and the Keeper makes short work of the infernal knot. Aloy lifts her hips so the Keeper can slide her leggings down to her calves, then his fingers are spreading the slippery sheen of her arousal, pushing away her momentary awkwardness, making her buck her hips for _more_.

She bites her lip and breathes hard through her nose, trying to be silent for him even though she’s desperate to cry out. He pulls her hips closer to the edge of the table and positions himself at her entrance, and Aloy wraps her arms around his neck, ready and eager to take him.

But he pauses and looks into her eyes. “I must tell you something,” he says quietly. 

Aloy frowns. His expression is intense and serious, and a dull wiggle of dread dilutes her desire. “What is it?” she asks.

The Keeper tilts his head to the left towards the ornately carved door at the end of the hall. “That is the Sunhawk’s office. Ahsis’s office.” 

Aloy stares at him in disbelief. He gazes steadily back at her, and the corner of his lip twitches. 

A slow grin sweeps across Aloy’s lips. “It is not,” she retorts.

His tiny smile widens. “It is.”

Aloy gapes at him for a moment longer, then a bark of mirth escapes her lips. It’s like triggering an avalanche, and suddenly Aloy can’t stop laughing. Ahsis thinks she’s nothing but an interloping Nora savage, and she can’t imagine a better revenge than this perfectly _savage_ behaviour at the threshold of his private realm. 

She laughs hysterically, unable to quell her delight. It’s the first time in months that she’s really had anything to laugh about. It might be the first time in years that she’s laughed with such a total lack of inhibition. 

The Keeper gently covers her mouth with his hand. “Shhhh,” he whispers, but she can hear the chuckle in his voice, and this only makes her laugh harder. 

Then suddenly she cries out into his palm; his rock-hard cock is inside of her, and she can’t think beyond the breathtaking sensation of his hardness. She can’t talk through the softness of his hand covering her mouth. To her surprise, his silencing hand is driving her lust ever higher, making her feel even more wild and desperate, and a vague part of her mind marvels at this; she would _never_ have imagined that she’d allow anyone to muzzle her in any context, but fire and spit, she _likes_ this. 

His grip over her mouth is light and gentle, stifling nothing but her pleasure cries, and Aloy desperately _wants_ to cry out; the rhythm of his hips is perfect, replacing her hysterical laughter with near-hysterical bliss, and soon she’s so enraptured that she bites the flesh of his palm by accident.

The Keeper hisses and releases her mouth, but before Aloy can utter an apology, he captures her lips in a fierce kiss, then grabs her hips and fucks her harder. 

Aloy thrusts her tongue into his mouth, then grabs his hair and _pulls_. He groans against her lips, slamming into her firmly for a minute longer before suddenly pulling out and expelling his release on the table. Before he’s even finished shuddering from his climax, he’s pulling a kerchief from his pocket and hastily wiping the evidence of their passions from the table.

Aloy snorts with renewed mirth and bites her knuckle to muffle herself. The Keeper shoots her a half-smile, then gently pulls her hand away from her mouth and kisses her tenderly, his earlier roughness replaced by his usual gentle manner. “I apologize,” he whispers. “I know you didn’t…” 

She shakes her head. “Don’t apologize,” she mumbles. She didn’t peak a second time, but it was still _good_ ; her flesh is still tingling from the delicious friction of his fast thrusting. She smirks teasingly at him. “I wouldn’t give you a Blazing Sun, but...”

He smiles broadly at her. Then they both turn in alarm at the sound of voices approaching the curtained doorway. “...brought the Sunhawk an armful of trophies. But I’m not sure where she went after that.”

 _Ligan._ In a sudden panic, Aloy slides off the table and hauls her leggings up. Somehow the Keeper looks perfectly calm as he swiftly laces his pants up. He cradles her neck in his hand and kisses her on the lips, then slides silently into a dark doorway.

It’s not a moment too soon. Talanah pushes the curtain aside and glances vaguely into the hallway, then her eyes light on Aloy’s face. Her eyebrows jump high in surprise. “Aloy! Here you are! What are you doing back here?”

“Looking for the restroom,” Aloy says. She shifts awkwardly, hoping her flushed cheeks will only look like embarrassment and not… something else. 

Talanah grins, then gestures for Aloy to follow her out of the hall. “They’re this way. Ligan should have shown you…” 

Aloy is careful not to look towards the hallway where the Keeper disappeared. His presence is completely undetectable. She bites the inside of her cheek to quell the grin that wants to spill across her face. 

She follows Talanah out to the main area of the Lodge. She nods agreement to Talanah’s brisk request to help her eradicate a pack of Glinthawks near Lone Light. She can feel her usual serious, focused attitude returning as she follows Talanah out into the sunlight.

But there’s a new, hungry part of Aloy’s mind, fed only by the silent Keeper in the Lodge, and it wonders when she’ll see him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Part 3 will be up in a couple days. ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW smut. Of course.

Weeks melt into months, and Aloy doesn’t see him again.

There’s no time. After helping Talanah to take down Redmaw, Aloy goes to the Grave-Hoard, and things move fast after that.

Sylens sends her into HADES’ stronghold, and Aloy is almost killed. She barely takes a day to recover from her tumble down the waterfall before riding out to Sunfall, but she passes through Brightmarket on the way and Elida’s father is desperately worried, so Aloy stops to search for the missing girl. In Sunfall, Vanasha asks for help, and Aloy doesn’t have the heart to turn her down.

Then Helis captures her for the Sun Ring. 

All hell breaks loose after Sylens helps her escape. She rides hard for the Sacred Lands, ignoring her myriad bodily pains and the tenacious headache that hasn’t abated since Helis’s firebomb took her unawares.

The Embrace is unrecognizable. Aloy’s heart aches as she surveys the damage, and all she can imagine is Rost’s face if he could see his beloved homeland now. It doesn’t occur to Aloy that she doesn’t consider the Embrace to be _her_ home. 

She sprints for All-Mother Mountain as fast as her aching feet can carry her. She barks commands at the motley crew of remaining Nora braves, and the corrupted Thunderjaw falls under a hail of arrows and its own ammo. She barely takes the time to grasp Varl’s bruised arm in greeting before striding into All-Mother Mountain. Lansra tries to stop her, and Aloy has no patience for her boarshit. She shoves past the Matriarchs and keys in the Alpha registry. 

At last, at long bloody last, the Mountain opens for her, and Aloy steps confidently through the door. It closes behind her, enveloping her in a hush of quiet.

The silence is ringing and complete, and Aloy crumples to her knees.

It’s _silent_ , and Aloy is so, so relieved.

**************

Aloy rides leisurely through the jungle on her Broadhead. She’s on a mission, but this time it’s a mission of her own making: she wants to find Elisabet’s home. 

But Aloy is _tired_. Her shoulders feel heavy with a sense of responsibility that she can’t seem to shake, even though the battle is won. She’s still surprised at how many people showed up to fight by her side: Nakoa, Janeva, Aluki, Varl and Sona and the Nora braves… Even Nil was there, albeit grinning with more relish than determination at the thought of the fight. Although Aloy was grateful, the obligation to speak to everyone, to encourage and reassure and cajole and command, was almost more exhausting than the battle itself. The night before the battle, she fled to Olin’s apartment and buried her head under the pillow to drown out the echoes of their voices.

It took more than a week before Aloy felt healed and rested enough to leave Meridian after the battle. Now, on her journey to Elisabet’s home, she thinks she knows where she’s going, but the trip will take many days, and she’s decided to make a stop along the way.

She rides her Broadhead up a short rise, then slowly slides off its back and approaches the hunting grounds. 

The Keeper sits on his boulder, his eyes closed and his face relaxed, and Aloy feels a vertiginous squeeze of unreality at how _normal_ he looks. 

Aloy now has all the answers she ever wanted, but it’s changed her world irrevocably. Her trust was fractured by Sylens’ reveal that he started the Eclipse. His blasé lies grate at her skin like sandpaper, and she isn’t sure she can ever forgive him. 

Her self-confidence was fractured by GAIA’s reveal of her purpose - her reason for being _made_ \- and Aloy feels like she’s still putting her identity together piece by piece. 

It seems impossible that anything in the world is as it was before. And yet the Keeper sits on his boulder listening to the layers of silence in the wild, firelight flickering over his handsome features, and Aloy feels her shoulders relax for the first time in months.

He opens his eyes. The corners of his full lips curl in that characteristically enigmatic half-smile, and Aloy’s heart flutters as she quietly pads over to his side. 

His cocoa-brown gaze is warm as he surveys her. “I am happy to see you,” he murmurs. 

It’s the most personal thing he’s ever said, and Aloy drops her eyes shyly. “Yeah,” she agrees quietly. “It’s been a while.” 

He nods. “Have you come for the stealth trials?” 

Aloy shoots him an odd look, but his eyes are sparkling with humour. She relaxes and huffs out a quiet laugh at the thought of taking down a machine for mere sport after everything that’s happened. “Absolutely not.” 

The Keeper smirks and nods again, then lifts his hand from his lap and holds it out to her. 

Aloy takes his hand without hesitation this time, and he laces his fingers into hers, then gently tugs her towards him. 

Aloy moves closer, then feels a squeeze of nerves as he gently places his other hand on her waist and pulls her down to sit on the boulder between his legs. 

She stiffens slightly as the Keeper slides his arms around her waist in a gentle embrace. The heat of his chest is inviting against her back, but Aloy feels oddly tense. This man has touched her more intimately than she’s ever been touched, but no one has ever _held_ her like this, without purpose or aim. She’s uncertain what she’s supposed to do. 

As usual, the Keeper seems to know what she feels without her needing to speak. “You’ve earned a moment of stillness. You can relax,” he whispers. 

Aloy heaves a heavy sigh and wiggles her shoulders irritably, then finally rests her arms over his. “I don’t know how to relax,” she says jokingly, then realizes with a jolt of regret that it’s actually true. She can’t remember a time when she wasn’t pushing hard towards some goal. 

She swallows hard, but the Keeper takes her comment in stride. “Lean back,” he murmurs. 

Aloy bites the inside of her cheek. His suggestion sounds simple but it _feels_ complicated, as though relaxing might require her to loosen something more than just her muscles. Finally she acquiesces and tentatively leans back against his chest. 

His voice is calm and lulling behind her ear. “Close your eyes. Then just listen… and breathe.” Aloy sighs quietly, then allows her eyelids to drift shut.

They sit together for time uncounted. Insects scrape and chirp, and a warm breeze rustles through the leaves. The gentle ticking of a Watcher floats in and out of her awareness during its patrols in the valley below. A distant river rushes softly by on its unending course. Underneath it all, the Keeper breathes softly, his chest rising and falling behind her back. 

Aloy’s limbs loosen gradually, and she tucks her head back against the crook of his neck. His cheek is warm against her temple, and Aloy tentatively laces her fingers into his. 

Minutes pass in an unhurried flow as Aloy listens peacefully to the sounds of the jungle. Then the Keeper turns his head and lightly presses his lips to her temple. 

Her heart skips an excited beat. The Keeper’s lips are slow and sweet, dropping light kisses along her hairline and the edge of her ear. 

Aloy languorously tilts her head to the side, and the Keeper lifts one hand and cradles her throat, his thumb stroking her jaw as he brushes his lips carefully along the side of her neck in a sweet line. The brushing of his mouth is more of a caress than a kiss, and Aloy marvels at how perfectly comfortable she feels, how utterly _safe_ , even as his touch sets a familiar delicious heat to simmer beneath her skin. 

But this time, Aloy isn’t in a hurry to sate her hunger. She came to this place and this man for a reason: she was searching for peace, and she knew she would find it with him. 

His lips travel down to the tender angle of her neck and her shoulder, then he lifts his mouth from her skin. Aloy inhales slowly, her desire fanned by the abandonment of his lips, and she turns her head to look over her shoulder at him. 

The Keeper gazes back at her, his eyes lush and warm like melted chocolate, and Aloy bites her lip in anticipation. He brushes her lips lightly with his thumb, and she tilts her head back entreatingly.

The Keeper answers her unspoken need, cupping her neck and kissing her softly. His lips are gentle and exploratory, brushing lightly over hers, tasting her mouth with infinite care, and Aloy dreamily closes her eyes. She doesn’t push for more, doesn’t urge him on; she's happy to follow his lead, riding the gentle wave of lust as its laps at the edges of her awareness. 

His tongue traces her bottom lip delicately, and her breath hitches in her throat. When he pulls away from her, Aloy finally whimpers a protest and hooks her hand around the back of his neck to pull him close again. 

He whispers against her cheek. “Turn around?”

His voice is a gentle question, and Aloy is more than happy to comply. She stands, and the Keeper guides her down with hot hands on her hips until she’s straddling his lap. 

He cradles her neck in one hand, his thumb stroking her cheek tenderly as his warm brown eyes study her face, and Aloy drops her gaze. She suddenly feels vulnerable, and this annoys her deeply. She has no good reason to be shy; this man has seen every inch of her bare skin. He’s stroked the inhibitions from her mind and the subtle mewls of pleasure from her throat. There’s nothing she could show him that he hasn’t already seen, or so she thought. 

But in the back of Aloy’s mind is a slow realization that there’s more to this liaison than his tongue on her skin and his hard cock inside of her. With a bare minimum of words, a bare minimum of _meetings_ , this Keeper has found a crack in her armour, crawling beneath the hardened shell of her callused skin and curling around something she’s always kept hidden, whether she meant to or not. 

Her throat feels thick. She swallows hard and continues to avoid his gaze, but his other hand is stroking her bare waist, his thumb smoothing over the jutting angle of her hip, and that inexorable wave of desire is slowly gaining traction in her belly.

The Keeper slips his hand around to cradle her skull and kisses her, and Aloy parts her lips with relief. Lust is good; it’s easy and manageable and so damn _delectable_. Lust is rinsing her vulnerability away bit by bit as he nips her lower lip with gentle pulls of his full mouth, his hand rising on her waist to toy with the edge of her cropped silk blouse. 

She drops her hands to his waist and slides her palms along the hard ridges of muscle in his abdomen. His hands have thoroughly travelled over her body during their times together, but Aloy realizes now that she’s hardly taken the time to touch _him_ in return. It’s an inequality she’s suddenly eager to address.

But the Keeper is unbuckling her vest with one clever hand, and Aloy hastily pulls off the garment, then lifts her arms so he can pull her cropped blouse over her head. Her hair spills wildly around her face, and he calmly smoothes it back and kisses her again. 

His hands cradle her neck and his tongue slides sinuously against her own, and Aloy is wrapped in bliss; his hands are firm but unhurried, and Aloy’s sense of dreamy pleasure has returned in full force. 

The Keeper delicately places his left palm in the center of her back. His right hand encircles her throat, drawing a tiny gasp of want from her lips, then slides along her sternum. He pushes gently at the base of her sternum, and Aloy pliantly arches and leans into the strength of his left hand at her back. The curtain of her hair slides away from her shoulders, presenting her breasts to his appreciative gaze.

The Keeper takes full advantage, and Aloy mewls with pleasure at his touch: she can’t decide whether she prefers his thumb teasing her left nipple or his tongue teasing her right, but he gives generously of both, and Aloy tilts her head back in bliss to accept his touch. 

He nuzzles her skin, the faint stubble on his chin abrading her puckered nipples. Aloy gratefully cradles his head in her hands, but her fingers catch against the cold metal of his headdress. 

She opens her eyes as the Keeper lifts his face from her skin. Aloy raises her eyebrows in a question, and he nods slightly. 

Slowly and carefully, Aloy pushes off his headdress. For the first time, she takes in his whole face, unhidden by machine metal, and her eyes trace over the subtle chevron tattooed between his eyes, a complement to the patterns at the corners of his eyes. Finally she meets his gaze, and he raises his eyebrows expectantly.

“Do you still like what you see?” he asks quietly. The corner of his lips tilts up in a playful smirk. She smiles back at him, but she can’t think of a clever response, so she gives an honest one instead.

She traces the chevron carefully with one finger. “Yes,” she says simply.

His smirk softens into a gentle smile and he kisses her again, his tongue sliding against hers as his hands slide smoothly around her waist and up her back. Aloy drops his headdress on the ground, then tugs lightly at his vambraces.

He immediately understands her wordless demand. Silently and swiftly, without breaking their kiss, the Keeper divests himself of his armour and his vest, then reluctantly peels his lips from hers to unwind his scarf from around his neck. He cups her cheek and leans in to kiss her again, but Aloy stops him with her fingers on his chin. Her eyes are roving greedily over his bare chest, and she wants to _touch._

As always, he seems to understand her unspoken wishes, and he leans back slightly, his hot hands encircling her thighs. Aloy traces the veins in his biceps, her thumbs stroking the tan lines on his arms as she appreciates how deeply the sun has bronzed his exposed skin. 

She rests her palms on his chest, then slowly slides them down, her gaze catching with interest on the darkness of his nipples. Curiously she runs her thumb over one nipple, and she’s gratified by the Keeper’s sharp intake of breath. She looks up at his face, and a bolt of lust pierces her gut at the sudden blazing intensity of his eyes. 

Aloy is snared by his burning gaze, unable to look away, her breath locked in her chest by the scalding heat in his face, a perfect match to the heat in her groin. Her fingers are frozen on his chest, and his hands tighten convulsively on her thighs at her hesitation.

He leans forward slightly until his face is a mere inch from hers. “Keep going,” he whispers. Then he gently licks her lower lip. 

A soft keen of desire shivers from her throat and she arches towards him, but curiosity is battling for dominance over her desire, and she wants to see how far this can go. She strokes her thumb around the periphery of his nipple, savouring the sharp sound as he inhales through his nose.

She continues to tease the dusky edges of his nipple, pulling a soft groan of bliss from his throat, and a satisfying feeling of power heats her blood at his obvious pleasure. She skims her thumb over his nipple again, and his cock surges visibly in his pants. Aloy instinctively bucks her hips towards him, but she’s not done with her explorations. 

She pushes at his chest, making him lean back slightly, then lowers her mouth to his body and licks his nipple. He jolts, his abs going rigid beneath her palm, and Aloy smiles smugly against his skin before gently tugging his nipple with her lips.

Suddenly he surges to his feet, his strong hands under her thighs as he carries her to his bedroll. He lays her gently on her back and braces his weight over her, lowering his face to kiss her, but Aloy pushes at his chest again. “Not yet,” she gasps. “I’m not done yet.” 

He exhales in a quiet, rueful laugh, then buries his face against the side of her neck. His teeth nip at her skin, sending a ripple of delicious pleasure straight to her nipples, and Aloy arches helplessly up towards him, but she pushes at his chest again. The Keeper’s calm composure is slipping, driving her need ever higher, but she’s not finished playing yet. 

Eagerly she slides her hands down and tugs at his laces, freeing the steely rod of his erection, and the Keeper groans audibly against her ear as she wraps her fist around his girth. 

Aloy can’t resist. She turns her face towards his ear with an irreverent smirk. “Shhhhh,” she hushes.

The Keeper _growls_ against her ear, an animalistic sound of hunger, and Aloy stops breathing for a moment as an exquisite wave of desire surges over her entire body and pools at the apex of her thighs. 

“Cruel, pretty huntress,” he murmurs, his voice rough with lust. 

“Fair’s fair,” Aloy pants. Her own breaths are coming as sharply as his now, but she refuses to give in. She pushes at his chest again. “Lie back,” she orders.

The Keeper runs a hand over his sleek hair and tugs at his ponytail in frustration, then abruptly he sits back. Aloy sits forward and shoves insistently at his chest, forcing him to lie back on his elbows, then pulls his loosened pants off. 

For the first time, he’s naked except for the Lodge insignia around his neck, and Aloy eyes him with blatant appreciation. Her gaze lingers on the ropes of muscle that point from his hips down to the jutting rise of his cock, and Aloy happily follows the directions of his body and grasps him firmly in her fist.

She squeezes his cock, and the Keeper inhales sharply through his nose, then exhales in a low, feral growl. His appreciation spurs her on, and without thinking further, Aloy leans over his body and takes his length in her mouth. 

Like the palms of his hands, the skin of his cock is surprisingly soft against her tongue, and his unmuffled groan of pleasure is music to her ears. She smiles slightly around his girth, amused that he seems unable to follow his own stubborn directions for silence, but curiosity swiftly overrides amusement as she slowly slides his cock deeper into her mouth. She listens carefully for his reactions as his manhood glides smoothly towards her throat.

He inhales sharply through his nose, his abs trembling beneath her palm, and Aloy glances to the side so she can see his face. Then she actually chuckles around the girth of his cock. His fist is pressed to his mouth, and Aloy is delighted to see him using the same technique as her to silence his cries. 

The Keeper jolts sharply at her laughter, then moves his hand away from his mouth. “Huntress, have mercy,” he gasps. 

Aloy can’t help it. She releases his cock and laughs into her hand. He’s usually so calm and collected, so utterly in control, and his lustful begging makes her feel both smug and unbearably horny. 

He sits up and grabs her hand, pulling it away from her mouth, then tugs her insistently towards him until she’s straddling his hips. He pulls roughly at the buckles of her pouch belt. “So lovely but so cruel,” he growls. “I’m going to teach you something.” 

Aloy grins as he tosses her belt pouch aside and pulls at the silk belt that fastens her tassets to her waist. “Teach _me_ something, huh?” she retorts breathlessly. “I hope it’s not a lesson about silence. For the Keeper of the Stealth Trials, you’re not very good at it.”

The Keeper huffs in amusement at her irreverent sass, then takes her chin in a firm grip. “Stand up. Take off these clothes,” he says.

Aloy swallows hard, her mirth melted away by a roaring blaze of sheer lust. This is the first time he’s told her what to do instead of asking. His quiet voice is implacable, his expression scaldingly hot but utterly controlled, and she finds his poise _extremely_ arousing. 

Aloy rises to her feet and hastily strips off her sandals and her bottoms, acutely aware of the pulse pounding between her legs and the hot caress of his stare as she strips. Once naked, she looks down at him expectantly. 

He waves imperiously for her to approach. “Get on top,” he says. 

Aloy straddles him eagerly, and he grasps her hips and immediately slides her onto the sweet hard target between his legs. She shoves her fist against her mouth to stifle her gasp; he feels even larger in this position, and Aloy instinctively jerks away slightly, wanting to go slow. 

The Keeper reads her body language fluently. “Easy. Slowly now,” he croons softly. His voice is gentle again, and Aloy feels some of the tension flee her thighs as he continues to speak soothingly. “You can approach this in many ways. Try leaning forward, or back. Grind your hips against me, or maybe you want to fuck me hard.” 

Aloy gasps, and her nipples harden into little pearls. The words he speaks are blunt, but they sound so damn _smooth_ when delivered in the caramel of his voice. 

The Keeper continues to speak, and his strong hands are on her hips, tilting gently to demonstrate as he speaks. “Treat this like any other hunt. A true hunter chooses the approach that best suits the kill. Find your angle and exploit it.” 

Aloy absorbs his words and his touch like a thirsty orchid. She closes her eyes to focus solely on the sensation in her core, tuning her body until it resonates like a braumdrum against his hips.

He lowers his voice even more intimately, and his words are like warm honey pouring down her throat, enrobing her in pleasure. “ _You’re_ in control, pretty huntress. Show me how you want me.” 

Aloy inhales sharply through her nose and nods furiously. She braces her palms on his abs and shifts against him, rotating smoothly over his cock, her attention fully focused on finding her pleasure. 

_There._ Suddenly she gasps, then holds her breath in trembling anticipation; her sweet spot reveals itself as she undulates smoothly against his hips in a slow grind. Aloy takes full advantage, rolling against his hips with single-minded focus as his cock strokes a beautiful trembling pleasure from her core. 

The Keeper speaks again, his smooth voice roughened with desire. “I want to touch you now.” 

Aloy nods madly. “Yes,” she whimpers; she wants his hot hands on her body, and she’s convinced that anything he does will only add to the beautiful roiling storm that’s building in her core. 

She’s not wrong: his fingers are hot as they part the curls over her sex to rub lightly at the nub between her legs. 

Aloy clutches convulsively at her own throat, her lips parted as she gasps desperately; the sensation is exquisite but almost overwhelming, and Aloy backs off from his cock to try and lessen the sheer _feeling_ that’s throbbing through her body. 

“Easy,” he whispers again. His left hand gently pulls her hips close again, then his fingers slide down to hold her thigh, keeping her in place. “You don’t need to move. Just _feel_.”

Aloy bites her lips and nods again. She understands what he means; his cock is filling her, giving her a pressure that’s just _right_ , and she can focus fully on the smooth stroke of his fingers around her clit. 

His fingers slide in a gentle, careful rhythm around the edges of her swollen bud, and Aloy clenches her nails against her own collarbone; her breath is trapped in her throat, her jaw clenched and her eyes squeezed shut, and all she can think about is his sweet, light stroke at the apex of her thighs. The storm in her abdomen is building, gaining strength like the charge of a Stormbird’s lightning gun, powered by the smooth swirling of the Keeper’s clever fingers.

The storm breaks suddenly, furious and fierce, and Aloy viciously bites her own hand in rapture, but it’s not quite enough to fully silence her scream. The Keeper doesn’t seem to mind this time: his grip has loosened on her thigh, and his voice drifts into her delirious mind.

“Ride me hard.” He’s in control again, his voice a firm command, and Aloy is powerless to resist; she fucks him hard and fast, and to her surprise and delight, her stuttering climax takes on a new life, surging from the periphery of her awareness back to the fore. Aloy mindlessly scrapes her nails along the length of her own chest, sprinkling a further garnish of painful pleasure over her orgasm.

Suddenly he slides his hand beneath her bottom and rolls over, and Aloy is on her back as the Keeper stretches his body over her, his cock still deep inside of her. His hips piston against hers in a smooth, carnal rhythm, but he tenderly laces his fingers into hers and kisses her, and a heartwrenching feeling of affection brings a sudden lump to her throat. 

Soon his shoulders are trembling, he’s gasping against her lips, and abruptly he pulls out of her and spills his seed on her bare belly. 

The Keeper’s face is pressed against her neck, his breath hot and wild, and Aloy breathes heavily alongside him. She’s limp and boneless with exhausted pleasure, but a bittersweet pressure sits in her chest. One of his hands is still intertwined with hers, and as the spasms of his climax lessen, he releases his cock and lifts his hand to cradle her jaw, pressing his hot cheek tenderly to hers, and Aloy bites hard on her lip to quell the swelling emotion that’s pressing at her throat.

As their sweat cools and their breathing slows, the Keeper rolls off of her body, then rifles in the pocket of his pants until he finds a kerchief. He kneels beside her and solicitously wipes her belly clean. 

Aloy folds one arm behind her head and watches his caring ministrations. The pressure of affection in her chest is heavy and new, and she bites the inside of her cheek. She feels both excited and terrified, not unlike first few times she met him, but this time, she doesn’t want to run away. 

The Keeper tosses the kerchief aside, then lounges beside her on the bedroll, his head propped up on one fist as he strokes the flat planes of her belly with his other hand. Aloy stares silently up at him, and he gazes back at her, his cocoa-brown gaze warm but serious, and Aloy can almost feel the unspoken words building between them. He’s not a big talker, and neither is she, but if neither of them says something soon, Aloy thinks she might choke.

Finally the Keeper speaks, but his words are not at all what Aloy expects. “I was there. At your battle in Meridian.” 

She stares at him in shock for a long moment before finally finding words. “You were?” she says dumbly, and he nods.

“Runners came from the Lodge, sent by the Sun-King. They said that Aloy of the Nora needed hunters for a battle, the biggest machine battle the world has ever seen. And so I came.” The Keeper falls silent, but his eyes trace over her face carefully, and the fondness in his face is so patently obvious that Aloy suddenly feels like she might cry. She had no idea he was there.

“Why didn’t you…?” Aloy trails off and swallows hard. She knows why she didn’t see him - he’s the bloody Keeper of the Stealth Trials, after all - but she wonders if he saw her, and if he did, why he didn’t speak to her. Everyone else wanted to speak to her, and she’d dutifully made her rounds, but if she’d known he was there… 

He smoothes his palm over her hip in a soothing caress. “You were otherwise occupied,” he explains, answering her unspoken question. “Everyone wished to speak with you. I didn’t want to add to the clamour around you; there was noise enough as it was.”

The corner of his lips curls up in a playful smirk, but his eyes are so tender it hurts, and Aloy doesn’t smile back; she’s too busy biting her tongue. _I talked to everyone else because I had to,_ she thinks. _I would have talked to you because I want to._

The words are at the tip of her tongue, but the feeling in her chest is too heavy and too new, and she’s too scared. She gives him humour instead. “You would never add to the clamour,” she tells him seriously. “Your voice is too quiet.” 

He grins, revealing that little dimple beside his chin, and Aloy finally smiles back, unable to resist the uninhibited amusement in his face. 

Then something strange and terrible occurs to her. _Aloy of the Nora needed hunters,_ he said. He knows her name.

But she doesn’t know his. 

Her realization of this egregious social gaffe makes her whole body tingle with horrified pins and needles, and she covers her mouth with one hand. 

The Keeper frowns at her and gently pulls her hand away from her face. “What’s the matter?” he murmurs. 

Aloy winces and covers her face again, then gracelessly confesses the truth. “I don’t know your name,” she blurts. She’s utterly horrified. They’ve had sex multiple times, and he risked his life in her battle, and it’s slowly dawning on her that he makes her heart pound for reasons other than carnal pleasure, but she doesn’t even know his _name_. 

A slow smile lights his face, and he laughs. 

Aloy stares at him, her humiliation diluted by a fresh and bewildering surge of fondness. She’s never truly heard him laugh before. The sound is smooth but joyful, like a gracefully tumbling waterfall, and Aloy is transfixed by the beauty of his mirth.

Finally he catches his breath and grins down at her. “My name is Aziv,” he says.

 _Aziv._ Aloy smiles up at him and idly traces the dimple by his chin with her finger. She likes his name - it’s short and it rolls smoothly off the tongue - but that’s a dumb thing to say, so she says nothing. 

He smirks at her for a moment longer, then lies on his back and gently pulls her close so she’s curled against his side. His hand smoothes along her bare hip. The crackle of the fire and the chirping of crickets fills her ears, and his chest rises and falls against her cheek. 

Aloy’s eyelids are heavy, but she forces herself not to fall asleep. “I should go,” she murmurs sleepily. 

His gentle reply floats into her ear. “You don’t have to,” he says. “You’re always welcome here.” 

Aloy bites her lip and doesn’t answer. She’s received invitations to stay at almost every settlement she’s visited, but this is the only time she’s ever wanted to say yes. 

She wants to agree; she’s sorely tempted, but she’s slept alone for so long, and she needs some time to adjust to the idea. She deflects his invitation with a joke. “Are you saying my hunting skills need work?” she murmurs. 

He chuckles softly, but his answer is serious. “True mastery of anything is the work of a lifetime. There’s much that I still have to learn about the art of stealth.” He turns his head, and his lips graze her forehead as he lowers his voice to a whisper. “We should hunt together. I would be honoured to learn from you.” 

Aloy blushes slightly at his compliment. She snuggles more closely against his side. “I’d like that,” she says. 

She feels his smile against her temple. His hand continues its hypnotic stroke over her skin, and when her eyes drift shut this time, she doesn’t mind. 

Aloy will leave in the morning; she’s a wanderer at heart, and she has places to be. But if she leaves a little piece of herself at this campfire, she knows it’ll be safe. 

This Keeper guards more than just these hunting grounds now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: THE PULL-OUT METHOD IS NOT AN EFFECTIVE METHOD OF CONTRACEPTION, AND YES I AM AWARE, but this is a fantasy ok so let’s pretend. This fic was also so short that I didn’t want to go into a whole thing about contraception, but if you waaaaant headcanons about contraception in the HZD world, feel free to check out [Stormbirds and Stalkers… ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11730771/chapters/26430822) #shamelessselfpromotion
> 
> Moving on: Thanks so much for reading, you guys! I’m genuinely surprised to have gotten this much feedback on this fic. It really was only supposed to be a oneshot, and then a three-shot, but then it turned into porn with SO MANY FEELINGS, and ow my heart...
> 
> How did you readers even find this fic, by the way?? Was it entirely through my Tumblr posts? Hell knows how you would have found it by searching on AO3 because it’s so weirdly tagged…
> 
> On that note, I’m off to beg for forgiveness from Murder Husband Nil, and to return to my PS4 with my tail between my legs to actually _do_ the Sleight of Crate trial. *sigh* At least I can ogle the Keeper every time I fail… 
> 
> Anyway. I’m super grateful for the reads and kudos and comments - much love to you all!! xoxoxo


End file.
